


Borne to Endless Night

by InugamiMochi



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Dracula - Bram Stoker, Horror - Fandom, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Gun Violence, Insanity, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Horror, Sexual Content, Survival Horror, Violence, cosmic horror, explicit content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InugamiMochi/pseuds/InugamiMochi
Summary: Over the years, many travelers have come to Yharnam, seeking their blood ministrations to cure their afflictions as a last resort.  Evelina's elder sister proved no exception.  One day, a letter from her sister arrives to beckon her to the strange city.  “For you have always been the first to share with all my joys and sorrows.” - It says.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Author's Warnings

**Spoilers! In these warnings and in the story itself!**

Hello Sweetlings and welcome to another experiment in my exploration as a writer. Come closer, and let me whisper into your ears...let’s converse quietly about finding those elusive eyes to the truth that lies glimmering, just beyond our fingertips. Shining like the starry eyes that watch us curiously. Or perhaps it is the sticky sound that entices you? Yes, we can try to listen for the inhuman mutterings of the Great Ones, for their unearthly messages. Those dreadful keenings of rapture.

This game was such a delight, steeped in Victorian gothic architecture and then peeling back the layers to find that the lycanthrope was merely a symptom of a much deeper horror of the Lovecraftian kind. I really, really couldn’t resist the call to try my hand in this cosmic mess. 

I make no apologies for the liberal way I will pull the lore into this story. Learned the hard way that game mechanics sometimes don’t quite translate well into writing or maybe I’m not good enough yet to make that work. That said, I will do my utmost best to deliver the best product I can. And don’t be surprised with references to other material in the horror genre, this game just has too much potential to experiment with, that I can’t help myself. Above all else - I just want you all to have a good time. Who knows where this will take us? I’m eager to find out.

**Moving forward from this warning chapter means you have acknowledged the tags.** This is not a story for the faint of heart or for those who are sensitive. Turn back if you feel even a tiny inkling of uneasiness. I fully intend to embrace my newest foray into the madness that lurks when confronted with a truth that is so alien...well. Sanity is more fragile than a soap bubble, let’s put it that way. I am going to explore deeply into a different type of madness and possibly the results of my findings may leave no one unscathed. 

**This story will contain explicit material concerning gore, insanity, violence, sexual themes, and much more red flags.**

**You have been properly warned.**


	2. Here Be Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yharnam has a way with...welcoming outsiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Sweetlings, to my attempts at something more horror inspired. Let's get to it.

### Here Be Monsters

Heavy wooden wheels, reinforced with rusting iron, creaked and clattered over the rough hewn cobblestone path. The clopping hooves of the horses dragging the rickety stagecoach, kicked up clouds of dust as the coachman steered them along. The coach rattled and swayed precariously as it jolted over each loose pebble, nearly careening and tumbling to its side several times as the driver urged the horses on with periodic cracks of his whip. 

The coach itself was a simple, plain box of wood, with none of the embellishments the Tonne favored, like heavily bullioned liveries and priceless glass windows. It’s only purpose was to be uncomfortably functional for the lesser Quality who couldn’t afford such ostentatious displays of wealth. The interior of the carriage was just as sparse. There were wooden planks within, upholstered with threadbare leather, that served as seats. It smelled musty - Of dust, stale sweat and molding leather. 

And riding inside, with a green tinged expression as the coach jostled around, was a young woman. Draped in a heavy woolen cloak over gentlemen’s clothes that were tailored to her smaller frame. She stared miserably straight ahead, trying not to glance at the rapidly moving scenery rushing past her. She pressed a booted foot hard against the opposite seat as the carriage rattled through a sharp right turn. 

“A wooden coffin on wheels.” Eve muttered, face drained of blood as a trembling hand pressed a lavender scented, linen handkerchief to her lips. A heart stopping lurch made her stomach clench tightly in nausea. The coach tilted dangerously to the left, forcing Eve to tightly squeeze her eyes shut as she blindly reached for the rope hanging overhead to steady herself, and to keep herself from being pitched out onto the road. “Gods, please let this be over soon.” She prayed weakly, gripping the rope tightly with both hands now. Her stomach roiled and her morning tea threatened to make an appearance.

“Alright in there Miss? You’ll be getting yer first look at Yharnam soon.” The careless driver shouted to her.

She grimaced. How soon was _soon?_ This mode of travel was awful. Eve gritted her teeth as she was shaken and rattled around in this wretched contraption. If only her brother, Eduard, had allowed her to travel by horseback to Yharnam instead. She could have avoided the misery of travelling by coach completely. 

Unseemly for a young lady, her brother admonished. She recalled how his dark eyebrows pulled in consternation at her appalling request. Practical, she countered, fruitlessly trying to get her way as she was used to with her sister, Mina. Eve shook her head and tightened a fist over her handkerchief. Bile soured on her tongue as the horses snorted and the ammonia stench of their urine wafted back to her.

Disgusting.

Yet another reason to virulently curse her brother for subjecting her to this indignity. They lived in a progressive era for Heaven’s sake! There were plenty of ‘ladies’ who travelled without an escort and on horseback as they pleased. After all, no one looked twice at her for dressing like a gentleman when she went out and about at home. She sneered to herself, only the Quality and the Tonne still clung to such outdated (and let’s be honest, restrictive) beliefs. Women were not wilting, delicate flowers anymore. But her brother was such a stickler for social propriety that she wanted to hit him for his stubbornness and refusal to progress with the modern times. 

Her throat closed up as her stomach lurched uncomfortably again. “Can this man not drive so recklessly?” She growled through clenched teeth. “It's as if he believes he is being chased down the road by the devil himself. This is highly unacceptable.”

She cautiously lowered a hand to clench at the fabric of her trousers instead. Trying to find some measure of comfort by directing her focus to the sturdy cloth and its smooth weave. Next time, she was going to rebel and choose the mode of travel most comfortable to her. And damn Eduard’s disapproval to Hell. Travel by carriage was something she wasn’t keen on repeating anytime soon.

“Hold on tight now Miss - we’ve arrived!” The horses slowed to a plodding walk as they dutifully pulled the carriage up to the yawning gates of Yharnam. The coachman chewed the inside of his cheek, briefly hesitating in his seat before snapping the reins back to bring the horses to a complete stop. “Hoy there - steady, steady!”

Eve braced herself against the seat, trying to will away the sensations of the ground swaying beneath her. The door to the carriage creaked open and she balefully glared at the coachman offering his hand to her. 

The coachman’s grin wilted a little under her withering stare. He coughed awkwardly and nodded over to the iron wrought gates. “We’re here Miss - Yharnam as requested. Though, perhaps you might want to reconsider now you got a look eh? It’s not a place for Quality to be visitin’ if you catch my drift. I can take you back without charge if you want it.” 

“Thank you for your kind offer but I have pressing business in Yharnam that can’t be delayed for any reason.” She replied stiffly, letting the coachman hand her out of the carriage. Her legs wobbled and threatened to collapse, but she forced herself to hold firm and upright.

“Begging yer pardon Miss. But Yharnam is a queer place, and the stories around it are even queerer.” His voice dropped to a low whisper, his eyes darted to search for signs of eavesdroppers, “Yharnam ain’t friendly to outsiders. And the stories Miss - about the plague of Beasts. Those Yharnamites are hiding something in their walls. They stay locked up tight at night and them Hunters. What are they hunting in the city I wonder? I reckon it’s not thieves and the like. Are you sure this business is that important? Outsiders that step foot in Yharnam never come back or they come back changed and unnatural.”

The coachman peered at her keenly, trying to divine whether or not she would heed his words. But finding only her neutral mask of polite patience, he sighed heavily and handed over her luggage. “If you insist on going into Yharnam, remember this. **Fear the old blood**. It may well save your life. Godspeed Miss.”

Eve clenched her hand over the handle of her luggage, knuckles white while her palms dampened from the sudden onset of fearful anticipation. She watched the coachman speed away without a single glance back at her and the city. For a strange fleeting moment, Eve felt a tiny splinter of regret for not accepting the coachman’s offer to take her back home. His parting words - ‘Fear the old blood’ - sent icy fingers raking down her spine. 

She swallowed thickly and tried to shake off the unsettling conversation. Her fingers plucked a heavily creased letter from her trouser pocket. Eyes skimmed over the length of the letter, using the request penned within, to remind herself that her mind had much more pressing matters to occupy itself with. 

Dearest Mina had written to her three days ago, requesting for her youngest sibling to visit her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, from her graceful penmanship to her overflowing excitement at finding a clinic that could treat her infertility. Her sister seemed well on all counts, according to the contents. Besides the slight undercurrent of fear that even this procedure would not work. A sharp pang of pity for her sister tightened her chest. Poor Mina, to have to endure such indignities, all so she could marry her love. Jonathon Harker. She reread the letter again carefully, finding comfort by the flowing script and overjoyed words.

_My dearest sister...I pray this letter finds you well. I am writing to send you the happiest of news. News that I hope my dear love Jonathon will forgive me for not telling him first. But let me first recount the past days, it has been so surreal that I can hardly believe it myself._

_The carriage brought me to Yharnam but five days ago. Upon arrival, I immediately found lodging at a quaint little inn they call The Green Kirtle. The inn is nestled quite cozily in Central Yharnam and overlooks such a charming little market._

_The city itself is quite bustling and there is a rather Old World charm to it, that I confess I like very much. The city does have some strange practices that I cannot quite understand, but they are nevertheless lovely. The moment the sun sets, every door is lit with lanterns and the entire city as far as the eye can see is bathed in a soft, flickering glow. Hardly anyone ventures out past sundown, but the inn is always bustling with activity that I find myself entertained enough that I do not regret being unable to leave the inn past sunset._

_Oh but I am sure you are likely hurrying my ramblings along. Impatient, impatient Eve!_

_Very well, as I sit writing this, I am trembling with joy._

_For as you recall, I sought out Yharnam for their famed healing practices. And God has been kind enough to answer my deepest prayers. There is a clinic just up the street from The Green Kirtle that specializes in afflictions like mine. Blood healing, they call it. Such a queer name isn’t it? But the matron of the inn swore by it, in fact all the Yharnamites do. They say many things like ‘By the Good Blood.’ and ‘The Good Blood bless you’ so often. And there is only one Church here - the Healing Church who endorses this practice of blood healing for ailments of all kinds._

_Pray write to me dear Eve. Say that you will attend to me when I am scheduled to undergo this healing in three days time? While I would wish for Jonathon to be with me, I cannot bear to see his face if by some chance that it does not work as intended. For that disappointment, I would rather my closest companion, my confidante to be there to console me. And if the healing proves a success, then nothing would give me the greatest joy than to share my happiness with you first. For you have always been the first to share with all my joys and sorrows._

_With much love,  
Mina Murray_

Tucking the letter back in her pocket, she took a deep breath and walked beneath the gates and into Yharnam. There was no reason to be so unsettled by that coachman, she told herself. She was being silly. “What matters is that I am here for Mina. Everything else is unimportant.”

The setting sun bathed the city in soft oranges and pinks. In the distance she could make out towering, spindly spires reaching high and a dizzying maze of alleys and streets curving inward into the heart of the city. A deep throated bell tolled through the air. Eve noticed the way everyone suddenly paused to glance at the sky anxiously.

How strange. Eve watched in slight confusion as everyone began to hurriedly bustle inside. Pausing only briefly to light the lamps and incense pots (curiouser and curiouser) outside their doors. Shopkeepers began making last calls for their wares before packing up everything. Inns and bars threw their doors wide open, calling out for anyone without a place to stay, to hurry over while they still had the room.

Eve tried to snag the attention of a nearby gentleman in uniform, trying to gather directions to the clinic Mina was expecting her at. The man immediately berated her instead and tried to push her towards one of the inns.

“Young lady, outsider or not, you will respect that we do not conduct any business after sundown. Now be a good girl and find lodging for the night. Your errands can wait until the morn.”

“This is preposterous!” She wrestled herself free from the man’s grasp. “I have urgent business and I do not appreciate any delays.”

“Outsiders are so insufferable. I am doing this for your own good.”

“Unhand me!”

Eve continued to resist, unable to comprehend the harshness of the constable trying to bully her into compliance. She stepped away, fruitlessly trying to pull her arm back into possession. Her foot slipped over a loose pebble and she tumbled headfirst onto the ground. A resounding knock to her head left her coldly unconscious.

“Dear God what is the matter with you?” Another tall gentleman leapt to her aid, gathering her limp body into his arms even as he glared at the stuttering constable.

“Begging your pardon Sir but -”

“I have no patience or time to hear your excuses. Away with you!”

The gentleman sprinted up the street. A fist banging on the closed doors of a clinic. “Open up - I have a patient that is in need of aid. Open!”

“Oh very well, bring her in.”

\---------------------

Lightning hot pain coursed through her veins, jolting her awake. Her body spasmed and strained against unseen bonds holding her tight. Why couldn’t she move? Her eyes darted round, seeing a wooden ceiling caked in dust and caught the glimmers of bottles from her periphery. She saw nothing familiar to her, the unknown heightening her fear. Eve gasped and thrashed. Weakly crying for help. Anyone, please!

Someone tsk’d from above her. “Don’t you go ruining my experiment young lady. Be a good girl and lie still or else I will have to put you under again.”

She shook her head wildly side to side, feeling her eyes bulging at the sight of the grizzled man hovering over her. A dangerously sharp syringe glinted in his fingers, filled with a suspiciously vicious liquid. 

“Stay away from me!” Eve snapped her teeth, lips curling back like a feral animal. She arched against her restraints, hearing the creaking of leather but unable to summon enough strength to break free. Her thoughts ran crazed, frantic with each passing moment. What was going on? Dear God, please let this be no more than delirium from her head injury. Please, please - this can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

The man frowned at her noncompliance and sighed in exasperation as he quickly injected the contents of the syringe into a hanging IV bag. She felt a sharp pinch as he quickly emptied the contents of another syringe into the side of her neck. Her tensed body stiffened before relaxing completely against her will. 

“A shot of _curare_ , just enough to keep you nice and still for the transfusion to finish. I wouldn’t bother trying to budge if I were you. This is a rather potent drug.” He turned to putter among the shelves, humming tunelessly in between sinister chuckles as he kept an eye on the progress of the IV. “Ah the thrill of science. I should thank the gentleman that brought you to my clinic. It’s been so long since I’ve had a female patient, and one of Quality no less heh heh. I am expecting good results from you.”

Paralyzed, she watched the crimson liquid flowing down the IV line. A line that was attached to her left arm. She struggled against the leaden weight of her body, imploring God soundlessly for aid and mercy. What was this man planning to do with her after this transfusion? She didn’t want to find out. She wanted this nightmare to be over with.

Her awareness flickered in and out. The contents of the IV depleted lower and lower. At one point, she began screaming again much to the amusement of the old man. Strange visions filled her mind. Little grey creatures emerged from the dirty floorboards in a burst of blood. Moaning and groaning as they began to crawl over to the gurney she was strapped to.

“No, _stay away from me._ Demons. There are demons here.” She shrieked as they hovered over her, obscuring her view with their hideously grotesque faces. Her eyes darted wildly, trying to catch the attention of the doctor. How could he ignore these beings manifesting in his clinic? How could he not care what was happening to her? What kind of mad doctor was he?

**Ah, you’ve found yourself a Hunter.**

Eve sobbed in terror, demons and now she was hearing disembodied voices too? What was this madness she was spiraling into? “Someone help me.” _’Mina, save me.’_

“Ah, it seems you’ve begun to Dream. Good, good.” The doctor murmured, taking notes as he eagerly watched the IV drain down to its last drop. Her reaction to the blood was quite splendid. So much more visceral and intense than his last patient. He wheezed in derision as she began to babble nonsensically to God. Foolish thing, as if God ever gave an inkling that He cared about his creations. Well, she will see the truth on her own in time. He reached over to shake the bag, ensuring that every drop flowed into his unwilling patient.

The aftermath of her transfusion left her body trembling violently. A fever swept through, boiling through her veins. Sweat beaded over her brows and dripped down her temples. Something, _something_ was slithering through her veins. She could feel it. See it. Something wriggled behind her eyes, burrowing deep towards her brain. Prickling and needling beneath her skin until she thought she would burst open to birth a writhing horror.

“God have mercy on me.” She whimpered, choking through the sensations of being consumed from within.

Then, just as quickly as it overcame her, it receded. Blessed relief. 

The doctor peered over his patient. Gnarled, papery fingers examined her eyes and pressed against her weakly, fluttering jugular. He continued to prod at her, notating every flinch and grimace in his notebook until he felt satisfied. “Congratulations, the procedure was a success.” He wheezed into laughter again, as if enjoying an inside joke. 

Quicker than she would have believed possible, he unshackled her from the leather straps that held her down to the gurney and hauled her towards the doors of the clinic. Her feet stumbled and the unsympathetic doctor clucked in annoyance as he shoved her back out into the streets of Yharnam. 

The lock clicked soundly behind her. 

Bells tolled again, jolting her back to awareness. 

Eve gathered herself back to her feet and stared, unable to comprehend the stark changes of the city sprawled before her.

The sun hung low in the sky. Blazing an angry crimson that lit the rooftops of Yharnam in an illusion of fire. No...the city _was_ burning. Hungry flames flickered from torches and bonfires as far as she could see. The acrid smell of burning oil produced an oily haze that stuck to her throat and made her eyes water. She coughed into her sleeve and swayed on her feet in disbelief.

The city had been intact, she knew this. Knew it as well as her own name. Her mind struggled to reconcile her memories with the wreckage and carnage displayed before her like a hellish painting. Rubble and rotting, festering carcasses littered the streets. She took a cautious step forward and bit back a moan of horror when she realized she stepped into a puddle of fresh blood.

She backed herself into the locked doors of the clinic, quivering. Hands reached to clutch her sides, vainly seeking comfort in her own arms. 

The howl of a wolf pierced through the air. Chilling her blood to sludge and rattling her bones. Her skin prickled into gooseflesh as something thundered down the street from her right. Her eyes widened as the monster, for what else could she call it? - lumbered into view. Snuffling and snarling as thick ropes of drool dripped from a bloodstained maw. Slitted eyes ringed in a sickly yellow locked onto her, full of beastly hunger and hate.

Eve turned round to pull at the handles of the clinic’s doors. “Please - let me back in! Open these doors at once! You can’t keep me out here!” She pleaded. Her back felt hot from the awareness of the predator closing in. Already tingling in anticipation of those claws shredding through her like softened butter. She slammed her palms against the unyielding doors in terror and frustration when she only heard sardonic laughter from within.

“You’re a cruel monster!” She screamed.

“And you’re a fool. No one opens their doors on the night of the Hunt. You would do well to resign yourself to that fact young lady.”

Half sobbing in fear, Eve reluctantly abandoned her attempts to get into the clinic. The monster was upon her; more Beast than man; rearing on its ghastly, hairy legs. Jaws lined with daggers, opened wide and breathed a fetid stench over her. The thing growled lowly, raising its wickedly sharp claws over her head.

“Help me.” Her heart slowed to a shuddering thump. Blood rushed to her ears, and all she heard was the waves of the ocean singing to her. A sticky warmth sprayed over her. Burning droplets clung to her face. She tasted a coppery sweetness on her tongue as she watched a saw-toothed blade rip through the beast in half.

Eve collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily. Eyes blown so wide, only a thin ring of her iris lined her pupils.

“What are you doing outside? Yharnam is no place to be out after sundown. Most especially on nights of the Hunt.” Dark eyes beneath stern, furrowed brows peered curiously at her. Drinking in the sight of the trembling girl, drenched in blood staring incomprehensibly up at him. He rapidly snapped his fingers in her face, trying to bring her back to attention. “Can you hear me? Wake up. This is no time to fall into a swoon.” 

“I-.” She swallowed thickly. “Has the world gone mad?” She whispered.

The gentleman tilted his head consideringly, “The world has always been mad.” He replied seriously. He raised his blade, letting it hover over her shoulder. “And now answer me, what are you doing out here?”

Unsticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she fought the instinctive urge to lick her lips nervously. “I came here for my sister. But I -” She wrung her hands and winced when her fingers brushed over the back of her left hand. Eve glanced down. A brand had been seared into her delicate flesh. Glowing an angry, raw crimson.

It caught the attention of the gentleman Hunter. His eyes shuttered in a faint apologetic sorrow as he hefted his blade high. The leather of his gloves creaked, as he tightened his grip over the blood slicked handle. “I see. How unfortunate.” He swung the blade with all his might, cleanly decapitating the girl’s head off her shoulders in one smooth motion. He stood firm as her blood splattered over the doors and himself. Standing protectively over her corpse as the messengers appeared from her blood to drag her off to the Hunter’s Dream.

“Welcome to Yharnam, Good Hunter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me your love and thoughts. I appreciate you taking the time to drop by.
> 
> Until Next Time - Take care~


End file.
